


Seeing is Believing

by in_motu_proprio



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:26:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21537424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/in_motu_proprio/pseuds/in_motu_proprio
Summary: Post episode  eaters of the LightHope is a dangerous thing.Missy crying, hair blowing in the breeze of the Tardis’ vent system.  He’s watching her and she doesn’t know it.  The Doctor SEES Missy for the first time in a long time.
Relationships: Twelfth Doctor/Missy
Comments: 3
Kudos: 50





	Seeing is Believing

Missy tried to touch him and he nearly jumped backward as though afraid of her touch being real. She’s so delighted, comes up so short, but he pulls back. Then he touches her hands and there’s that hope on her face. What’s he going to do with that? That hope is so hard to resist. He thinks about that hope in her eyes for hours, probably days if he got right down to it. He thought about that hope until they got back, about the way her breath caught, her pupils dilating. What was he going to do? Could he possibly believe it to be genuine? And if he did, what did that _mean_? He still had to keep her in the vault for a thousand years. Though he’d buggered that bit too. What did you do with a problem like Missy? 

Missy waited in the Tardis, much preferring it to her vault The Doctor didn’t bother asking how she got out, knowing that Missy was Missy and that she _was_ staying willingly. She was curled up in the library reading. It was where he usually found her when he needed her, so he hadn’t bothered going anywhere else in his search. “I need new reading materials.”

“You get new reading materials every week, Missy.”

“And I go through them. Twice.” She batted her lashes and closed the book. “I know you’re bringing me books from the Tardis library. I appreciate that, but there’s a library that houses every book in the universe. Just a quick…”

“No. Absolutely not.” The Doctor’s thoughts moved to Donna’s face embedded in the robot host. He had to shake it off so he moved to look for a book. It seemed she was ok with that, with him joining her because she didn’t push. “I can increase the number of books you can take with you.” It wasn’t as though he cared, but Nardole was insistent that prison feel like prison to Missy or what was the point? Nardole didn’t understand that being stuck in one place, in one time, going in order… it was torment for their people. Being away from the Time Stream could be physically painful for a Time Lord, but worse yet it could drive a sane one mad. What in the world would it do to her? 

“Careful with that chair. I needed the springs.” The Doctor had been warned a moment too late and nearly fell through the seat of the chair, getting a snort of laughter from Missy. “What… you said I couldn’t be bad, not that I couldn’t be naughty.” She raised one pointed brow, giving it a little wag before getting up from her place on the sofa so she could come over and help him. 

“You took the springs from… Missy…” She pulled him to his feet but didn’t step back, invading his space. With most he’d jump back. With her it was hard not to lean in. “Don’t take things out of other things unless we need to. We can stop to get parts for whatever you need.”

“Promise?” Her hands wrapped around his, an echo of all those hour-days ago. 

He turned his palm so that it pressed to hers, their fingers meshing together. “Promise.” 

The Doctor kissed the back of her hand and Missy closed her teary eyes, long wet streaks trailing after fat tears. “Oh Doctor,” she whispered, the hopeful tinge in her gaze overwhelming. “Will you sit with me?” He did, following her lead with his book in hand. She poured them both a cup of tea before sitting down to face him, more relaxed than he’d seen her in a few decades. She drifted off at some point, clearly exhausted despite looking so totally put together. The Doctor watched her for some time, eyes moving over her new frame. Even in all the layers she was small in stature. The Doctor was well aware that Missy was probably using boots with a heel and petticoats to appear bigger. Though he had to say that the compact frame she sported now was no less powerful than even the form that had topped the Doctor in height and strength. She’d always had that, though. The hard, unshakeable power that had always drawn him to her. 

She winced and turned a little in her sleep, Missy’s face twisting up with emotion. He didn’t know what kind until she howled, waking herself with a start. “Missy,” he said softly. 

“Theta?” The Doctor came up short. No one had called him that in lifetimes. “Doctor,” she corrected, sitting up and trying to straighten herself with shaking hands. “I tend to drift when the book’s not engaging.” Missy tossed the book from her lap onto the table in front of them, trying to draw his attention elsewhere. But all he could see were the pounding of her pulses and the way her fingertips shook. 

“Nightmare?” He reached out to take one shaking hand, squeezing it in solidarity. She nodded, looking away but not pulling her hand back. If anything, her grip strengthened. “I can listen.” 

“… “ She opened her mouth to speak then closed it, shaking her head. She had nothing but gripped his hand like she was going under. The shaking went through her whole frame now and the Doctor was genuinely worried for her. It took many more minutes and the Doctor eventually wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her in close for Missy to speak. “I see their faces,” she told him softly. “You’ve cleaned up so many of my messes, but that doesn’t mean I’m not still guilty.” He smoothed a hand over her wild hair, stroking it softly. “Millions, Doctor.” 

“I know,” he whispered. “I know.” He’d burned his whole world. Soul-crushing guilt and the Doctor were close friends. Missy’s arms wrapped around his waist and he found his other arm moving to embrace her. The Doctor could feel her corset digging into him through the layers of fabric between them. “You know there are much easier garments for ladies,” the Doctor joked with a little poke at her side. 

“True… but not if it’s meant as armor. I prefer full coverage,” Missy quipped. She looked up at him through long lashes, eyes red around the rims. Then she smiled. It was just a little, the barest hint of amusement, and he found himself squeezing her, kissing her forehead in delight He got carried away in the moment because she smiled every time his lips touched her skin. It wasn’t that evil, _I’m going to watch the world burn_ smile. It was genuine. It was the boy Theta had been obsessed with for decades, never saying anything. And then it had been all hate and torment between them. Now, though. Now she laughed just a touch, genuine and deep throated. There was hope in that laugh and he kept it going with a soft kiss to her cheek. That got a sigh. A little peck on the tip of her nose got a little laugh. And when he kissed her brow, she gave him that hopeful, tender look. She was giving him that incredibly tender look when the Doctor’s lips brushed hers. It wasn’t their first kiss, but it was their first kiss with guards down, just them in a very long time. 

She pulled back a little breathless at first, eyelashes fluttering as she tried to make tops or tails of what he’d just done. “Missy.” He didn’t meant to say her name aloud and he didn’t mean to say it like that. His tone got a groan from her, her pupils dilating as she searched his expression. His hand cupped her cheek, fingertips sinking into her hair. “We shouldn’t.” “I know.” She said it with a little growl right before their lips pressed together once more. Since the first time they touched as boys, a simple hug, the Doctor had felt a spark. This was that spark amplified by a factor of millions. She was beautiful and damaged and, apparently, his. Missy used his distraction at being kissed be her cover as she slid in to straddle his lap. She settled in all skirts and corset, that jacket of hers needing desperately to go. His hands were at the buttons before the thought even registered and the Doctor worked to catch his body and brain up to each other, pausing in his disrobing. Missy’s mouth opened and he groaned, feeling her tongue run across his bottom lip. 

She kissed him until the Doctor came back to himself and pulled back, staring up at her. Missy’s fingertips skated down his cheekbone then across his lips before she leaned in again, kissing the corner of his mouth softly. It went like that for awhile, just them kissing and touching each other. It wasn’t entirely sexual, though the Doctor would have been lying if he didn’t cop to getting a bit aroused due to her proximity. “Take yer hair down,” he growled quietly as his lips ran down her throat. Missy reached up without pause, loosing the mountain of hair. She ran her fingers through it a couple of times before he sunk his into it and pulled her into a far harder kiss. She was stunning. He felt incapable of resisting the way she touched his arms, pushing his jacket off his shoulders and down his arms. “Missy,” he whispered as his fingertips caressed her face. 

“Sit up.” She pushed his jacket totally off, her hands running down his biceps to his fingertips, lacing both hands with his. “I haven’t yet,” she told him softly. “Not in this body.” Her eyes searched his a moment as he tried to figure out what she was talking about. “It’s different for me as a woman.” There it was. Sex, then. Missy let go of his hands after guiding them to the buttons of her jacket. “I need more than just a place to stick it.” 

“Your assessment of my sex is quite disparaging.” 

“And,” Missy asked with a raised brow. “Remember I’ve been more male than female when it all shakes out. And I know what it feels like from both sides.”  
“Surely you’ve felt the same need to connect as a male,” the Doctor asked as he undid the buttons of her jacket with care, not wanting to give away just how eager he was to have another layer gone between them. He felt horrible about how things had gone in the counsel room, how he’d pulled back from her so fast. It was a cruel thing to do, but a survival instinct that he’d honed after millennia of her trying to kill him. 

“With my first wife,” Missy acknowledged. 

“You adored her.” 

“I did. I was convinced we’d stay together through our regenerations.” Missy said it sadly as he moved his lips to kiss her jaw. After she’d started to lose her mind, not knowing what the Lord President had done to her, Missy’s wife had wanted nothing to do with her. The Doctor had sat up with Missy many a night, keeping her from hurting herself or others. Hell, in a way he still was. “Since her, though…” Missy’s eyes ran over his face. 

The Doctor searched her face, quietly urging her to “go on.” 

“The next time I felt that was quite recently.” Missy’s fingertips ran down his cheek to his throat. “When you touched me. When I put your hand to my hearts,” she told him. Her voice was barely a whisper as though someone might hear. “I didn’t expect it at all.” Her fingers made quick work of her scarf and unbuttoned her blouse halfway. He sat there staring, his hands gripping her waist. Missy picked up that same hand and kissed his knuckles. Then, like before, she laid it between her hearts, holding his gaze. Nothing between them, she opened her mind to him and he felt her emotions with all the power she did. In fact, he felt it just as she did. He was feeling her emotions, and they were strong and serrated at the edges. He’d never survive.

His fingers spanned her chest, the tips wrapping at one clavicle while her palm rested at the rise of her opposite breast. “Nor I,” he told her honestly. He slid his hand up to wrap around the back of her neck. “It’s mutual.” His moment been more the kiss, the one that had left him staggering backward, flailing like an idiot as he scrambled for purchase against smooth glass. More so, it was the one in the graveyard when she revealed to him what she wanted and who he was. His fingers crept up the back of her neck into her hairline, getting a deep shudder from Missy. He took advantage of her being off kilter to pull her in for a soft kiss. Missy was shaken by the depth of her emotion and all he could think of to do was reassure her that he was going to find a way to stand by her. 

“Doctor,” she whispered as their foreheads pressed together, breathing hot air trapped between them. “Off.” Missy pulled at the hem of his shirt and he didn’t resist, letting toss it aside. He returned the favor, leaving her in her skirts and corset within a few minutes. His hands moved over her hips, up her sides as her mouth explored his chest. She pushed him back into the couch and kissed more, running her teeth down his sides as his hands squeezed her backside through far too many layers. 

He found her calf and stroked up the stockinged muscle, digging his thumb in as he went. She’d taken her boots off to get comfortable while reading so he could easily run his fingers from the sole of her foot to her hip in one move which he repeated when she made the most intoxicating sound the first time around. The second time she actually sat up and moaned, meeting his eyes as the Doctor squeezed her bare backside under all her skirts. “No undergarments,” he commented. 

“I’m wearing stockings and a garter belt,” she pointed out. His fingers brushed her bottom ever so softly, just barely glancing over the soft skin. Missy’s breath faltered. “I’ve never been a fan of pants. Too restrictive,” Missy told him as her fingers moved to his sides. “I imagine this incarnation is a boxer brief kind of bloke.” Missy gave him a little wink. “Can I find out for myself?” His hand cupped her backside properly, the other pressing to the small of her back to pull her in for a kiss. His hand moved over her thigh, thumb dragging down the long muscles at the side, seeking out tendons as they connected to bone. Her fingers found their way unimpeded to his trousers. It occurred to him with deep gravity that this was a line he couldn’t uncross with her. He very nearly stopped things, but she spoke, her lips brushing his as her hand pressed low on his hip. “I want it to be you.” She brought her hands to the busk of her corset, giving it a pull inward and releasing the thing in a fast, practiced movement. 

“Yer breathtaking,” he told Missy softly, his hand abandoning her bare ass for her waist. It joined its compatriot and moved upward over burning hot skin. He found the indentations of her corset with the edge of his nail, leaving her breathless and trembling in a matter of minutes. His mouth ran across her collarbone to her throat and unto her jaw She was a leaf, trembling as his fingertips moved to the line of her sternum, kissing his way from her throat to her xiphoid process then back up again, curving under her breast and getting her hands to sink into his hair in response. She pulled him up into a kiss that screamed possession and the Doctor followed right along, merrily dancing with the beautiful, half-naked devil in his lap. 

Under all those skirts, she was warmth personified. The Doctor couldn’t get enough of running his fingers along the tops of her stockings, touching that span of flesh up to her hip then back down again until Missy was putty in his hands. She kissed him slow and deep, grinding down into him from her position straddling the Doctor’s lap. “Will you have me, Doctor,” Missy asked, breathless and bare breasted staring at him with those doe eyes he couldn’t tear away from. 

He took a slow, purposeful breath and met her gaze, “I will.” The look of pure delight that crossed Missy’s face was nearly childish and oh so endearing as his hand moved from her thigh higher to touch her most intimate parts, fingertips gently brushing her folds. Missy was liquid heat, permeating the Doctor’s fingertips like lava. He sought out her moisture and used it to caress her softly, lips falling to MIssy’s throat. The Doctor rubbed slow circles around Missy’s clit until the woman was a breathless, writhing mess. Then and only then did he shift his hand. HIs thumb took over on her clit, giving Missy long, firm strokes down the length of it while his middle finger slid into her with almost no resistance. 

“Doctor,” Missy moaned, looking a hundred years younger, so much less put upon by the world. “Doctor, please,” she hissed nails digging into his bicep. He didn’t mind much, ignoring the pain in favor of watching Missy’s face go through the rigor of pleasure. He kissed his way over one breast then the other, moving lower and lower as he rocked his hand against Missy. One finger moved to two and that was when she got a little louder. He fought the fastenings of her skirts one handed and blind, managing well enough until Missy took pity on him or got frustrated enough with his fumblings and reached behind her to unfasten the thing herself. 

To his fascination, she stood a moment and dropped her skirts, letting them pool on the floor. “Well… get him out, the Little Doctor,” she teased with a nod at his lap. “I can see he wants to come out and say hello.” He stood and crowded her a moment, his hands running up her sides because he didn’t think he was capable of going too long without touching her anymore. It seemed silly to even attempt it. The Doctor needed her like he needed air and he prayed she never knew that or she’d use it against him at every possible opportunity. Alas, from the way she was looking at him, soft with a little bit of confusion, he figured she probably did know. 

He kissed her as she reached out to undo his slacks, opening them up enough to get her hand inside as he backed her into the table. The Doctor picked Missy up and sat her on the edge of the table, looking her over with real lust in his hearts… but more than that. He needed her, he always had and he probably always would. She got a hold of him about then and derailed any cognizant thought in his head, reducing everything to the physical. This was something most Time Lords didn’t do. They were capable, they just didn’t. It was base and considered immature. As he enjoyed the warmth of her hand wrapped around his cock, the Doctor could only think: call me immature.

Missy worked on him for awhile, both exchanging kisses as his hands moved up her thighs once more. The stockings stopped mid-thigh, giving him a little bare skin to work with while the rest was still a little bit of a mystery. He liked that. The Doctor liked a lot about this despite a little worry she might stab him mid coitus. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

His fingertips brushed her folds again and she trembled a moment, surprising them both it seemed. “It’s ok,” the Doctor assured her, reaching out a hand to caress her cheek, pushing some unruly hair back over her shoulder. He looked at her in all her glory and smiled, pleased at what he saw. She was beautiful, truly, and there was some pride in knowing he’d be the first. Knowing Missy, potentially the last. She had never been the kind to spread for just anyone. But she did for him, legs wide and wrapped around him loosely as they both got the other ready with eager hands. 

Soon his need had grown to incredible proportions and he was about ready to take over the lead when she pulled him closer, angling her hips down on the table as she lined them up. He knew better than to add his two cents now, just standing there allowing her to direct. It took a couple of wrong angles and a few tense winces from them both before things slid into place and he had breached her. He tried to stay still, not to push too much as she got used to things, telling himself they had all the time in the world so long as they stayed in the library together. 

Missy pushed herself down onto him slowly and it took every bit or reserve and strength the Doctor had to stay perfectly still for her. He recognized the look of concentration on her face that said: _do not speak_. No, he waited to speak until Missy did, moaning his name and getting her own returned. “Please move,” she asked with a surprising amount of politeness. She could be quite well-mannered when it suited her needs. The Doctor hadn’t an issue in the universe with complying with that request and started to shift, feeling her body grip and relax around him. She felt incredible and as it had been quite some time for him as well, the Doctor didn’t know how long he was going to last. 

That got him thinking about when the last time was and how it actually wasn’t even in this form. The last guy had been a bit horny if he was completely honest. The Doctor considered it then, two virgins in a manner of speaking. He held her a little closer at that, hoping to soothe them both. It seemed to work because soon Missy was touching herself and making the most wonderful sounds. “I’m quite close, Doctor,” she assured him, meeting his gaze with liquid blue that drug him back to her every time. His love for her would damn him one day, truly. The Doctor was sure she’d be the death of him for good one day. For now, though, he had her slow and adoringly in the middle of the library. 

She found her end first and the Doctor was grateful for that, knowing he’d never have heard the end if she left his bed unsatisfied. Missy cried out his name when she came, nails digging into the back of his neck while she rode down against him. He followed moments later, falling into her as he finished wanting nothing but to be as deep and close to her as he could as he came. She allowed it thankfully and he lay there half smothering her he was certain, for a long time afterward. The Doctor was reluctant to give up the closeness and from the way she was holding onto him, he thought maybe she felt the same. 

They parted eventually, the table getting too hard beneath her and his weight too much atop. “I need a shower,” Missy announced, giving him a push in the middle of the chest to get off of her. He followed, pulling back until he slid from her body, both of them sighing at the disconnection. Missy slid out from under him, not bothering to gather up one stitch of clothing as she headed for the door. The Doctor watched, eyes drawn to a bit of white on the back of her thigh creeping toward the line of her stocking. It was, perhaps, one of the most arousing things he’d ever seen. 

She would be able to tell he was staring and the Doctor didn’t know if he cared or not in the moment. Still, she turned and looked him over, one brow raised. “Are you coming?” 

He didn’t think he’d moved that fast in quite some time, hurrying across the library to join her in the doorway. “Yer beautiful,” he told her probably a bit too late. He still got a little blush from her and she didn’t push him away when she leaned in to kiss her one more time, just in case it was the last, before following her out in search of a shower.


End file.
